


Then The Morning Comes

by demonkatgurl17



Category: British Actor RPF, Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonkatgurl17/pseuds/demonkatgurl17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night of debauchery, Benedict awakes with Martin in his arms. Fun ensues. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then The Morning Comes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Learning the Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/350458) by [keelywolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe). 



> This story was inspired by a brilliantly done RPF I adored and kept fantasizing about. The idea stemmed from an erotic dream I had and it took off from there. All of the events and scenarios depicted are purely fictional. Please don't sue.

Warmth.  
  
A powerful sense of comfort and warmth was what Benedict’s mind dimly registered as he began the assent into consciousness. Such a lovely dream, he thought. Filled with touches and moans, his name spilling from his partner’s lips.  
  
Ben twisted slightly in the sheets, his eyes shut . He was adjusting his sleep position when he realized two things with a jolt.  
  
One: he was very much naked-- more so than he usually was after a good night’s rest. And Two: he wasn’t alone in the bed, as was evident from the very solid body he was currently spooning.  
  
Benedict mentally shook the remaining drowsiness from his thoughts and stilled his motions. Keeping his eyes firmly shut, Ben let his mind wander to the night before.  
  
He and the crew had finished wrapping up another Sherlock episode. It had been a long, successful day, followed by celebration amongst the cast and crew. After the festivities began to die down, Mark had suggested that Martin, Ben, and himself finish off the evening with an excellent wine back at the hotel. Wind down and relax, he had said.  
  
Ben’s mind instantly flashed through an impression of alcohol, lewd conversation, and a gigantic bed.  
Sweat-slicked flesh, heated moans, and tightness--such _exquisite_ tightness. The familiar name that had fallen from his lips as his lover writhed in the throes of passion.  
  
Ben’s eyes jolted open as the previous night, as though on fast-forward, flashed though his mind to the present.  
  
He had slept with his costar. Not just any costar. His male costar. Martin. He had sex with _Martin_. And it was _mind-blowing_.  Pleasant as that realization was, it didn’t help him as he pondered what to do _now_.  
  
 _Now_ , as he stared at the short dirty-blond hair barely an inch from his nose.  
  
 _Now_ , as his arms were loosely wrapped around the torso of the man pressed against his front.  
  
 _Now_ , as his morning erection (which had, up until now, been unnoticed) throbbed urgently against Martin’s firm arse.  
  
As Ben lay completely still, muddling through his uncertainty of how to proceed mixed with his unavoidable morning arousal, the figure in his arms shifted. Martin’s hips slowly ground back onto Benedict’s erection. Ben's body was flooded with pleasure at the unexpected contact and he bit his lip to stifle a moan.  
  
Blearily, Ben realized that this was what had woke him. The warm, tight curve of Martin’s arse ground against Benedict’s hardness for a moment, paused, rocked forward slightly, then rolled back against him, languid and slow, as if done unconsciously.  
  
Nearly panting from the effort of keeping his hips under control, Ben tried to assess the consciousness of the man lying against him.  
  
Before he could come to anything resembling an answer, Martin’s hips canted back with a particularly rough twist as Martin whined low in his throat. An answering moan caught deep in Benedict’s throat as he reacted instinctively, thrusting his aching cock against the inviting curve of Martin’s arse and placing an open-mouthed  kiss at the base of Martin’s neck.  
  
Ben gently rested his forehead against the back of Martin’s head, nuzzling the soft blond hair as he panted on the creamy neck in front of him, breathing in the scent of sex and Martin's skin.  
He tightened his arms about the man.  
  
One of Ben's hands-- of the arm pillowed under Martin’s head-- fisted in the sheets. The other hand skimmed lightly over Martin’s slightly softening tummy to his hip and firmly gripped it, rubbing his cock against him at an agonizingly slow pace.  
  
“Ben” Martin's head nuzzled Ben's arm, the murmur soft and nearly unheard over the sound of heavy breathing and the twist of sheets.  
  
Instantly, Ben froze mid-thrust. Was he wake? Sleep-talking?  
  
He was still laying indecisive and frozen when Martin paused the slow grind of his hips and turned his head to look over his shoulder.  
  
The blue eyes were lazily half-shut, but as Ben gazed into them, measuring, he saw they were heavy with desire and a touch of hesitation. It was comforting to know that Benedict wasn’t alone in his arousal-tinged uncertainty.  
  
But nervous of what?  
  
“Good morning”, Ben rumbled lowly, his voice roughened by sleep and desire. He watched with interest as Martin’s pupil’s dilated slightly at the sound, as well as provoked a small backward thrust of his hips. Ben’s hips pressed back in response before he could help it.  
  
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Martin’s face as he stretched in Benedict’s arms. “Hmm…yes it is, isn’t it?” A furrow developed between his eyes as he shifted slightly. “I hate to spoil the moment, but all that wine from last night wants to find its way out now. Back in a sec?” Martin gazed lazily into Ben’s eyes as his fingers brushed over the grip Ben had on his hip.  
  
Ben smiled at him. “I certainly hope so. Make it quick though, you’re not the only one.” The discomfort in Ben’s own bladder had made itself known at Martin’s remark, his arousal having previously masked it.  
  
Martin rolled out of Ben’s arms to the edge of the bed, tossing a pillow or two up towards the headboard before he stood.  Stark on either side of his hips were bruises, hand-shaped and already a light purple. Wincing slightly, he made his way, naked and partially erect, towards the loo, his gait hindered with the barest of  limps.  
  
Apparently Mark had been right about the use of the lotion.  
  
And with that thought, Ben’s mood took on a sour note.  
  
He wasn’t sure what to think about Mark. Nearly everything that had occurred had been helped or suggested by him in some fashion. From the tawdry topic of blowjobs, to actually _blowing_ Martin, to finally _fucking_ Martin, last night had been brought about by _Mark_.  
  
It hadn't been done out of charity, no, not with the wicked look in his eyes as Ben brought pleasure to his costar-- and had been pleasured in return. The man had genuinely enjoyed watching Ben and Martin together.  
  
He had certainly enjoyed taking his part in the festivities.  
  
Touching Ben. Performing on Martin. Having Martin help stroke him to orgasm.    
  
Anger rose in his chest at the thought of Mark’s hand wrapped around Martin’s climax-clumsy fingers. Mark sliding both sets furiously over his own engorged cock as he smiled wickedly down at Ben. No, there hadn’t been a trace of charity about the last night.  
  
“Hey, you ok?” Martin had returned from the loo. He’d been too lost in his thoughts to notice.  
  
“Yeah, I’m ok, I’m fine” Ben rubbed his hands over his face, attempting to remove traces of his annoyance with Mark and the remainder of his sleep away.  
  
Martin peered down doubtfully at him.  
  
“You sure? You looked a bit….perturbed a second ago. Something on  your mind?” Martin fidgeted slightly, standing on the other side of the bed.  
  
He hadn’t bothered to grab any clothes on his way back from the loo. He hovered  by the bed's edge, naked and half hard as he played with his fingernails, watching Ben’s face.  
  
He looked nervous. Did he regret last night? Or maybe he thought Ben did. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. The only thing he regretted was allowing Mark to manhandle Martin in his orgasmic lassitude.  
  
Ben shook his head, as though the physical movement would drive away his irritation.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine, I was just….”, he paused debating on letting the thought go, then decided to go with the truth. “Just thinking about Mark.”  
  
Benedict toyed with the rumpled covers, eyes on his own hands before he flicked the covers off himself and made his own nude way to relieve himself.  
  
He thought he heard Martin “hmm” softly before the door closed.  
  
As he freshened himself up, he brooded absently.  
  
Mark might have had ulterior motives about last night, but Ben and Martin had been pawns on the chessboard. Completely innocent of whatever Mark had been scheming.  
  
Well, to a point. Mark had indeed got the ball rolling, but that ball had turned into an avalanche of desire that Ben couldn’t have stopped if he’d tried.  
  
Ben had _wanted_ to pleasure Martin, to feel him under his hands, his lips, his cock. Wanted him writhing and moaning his name.  
  
And Martin had been more than compliant. Frankly, he'd been eager. There had been a mutual desire last night, and Ben would be lying if he said all he wanted was a one night stand. So the real question was: what did Martin want?  
  
Nothing to do but to confront the man himself.  
  
Spine steeled for the unknown, Benedict straightened to his full height, and opened the door. He pulled on an air of self-assurance and practically sauntered into the bedroom. He was aware many found his body pleasing (despite his own dismissal of his looks), and he was banking on Martin admiring it as well--if last night was any indication.  
  
During Ben’s turn in the toilet, Martin had climbed back under the covers and had laid back on a few pillows. He looked up from the bed sheets, pulling himself from his own thoughts, as Ben made his predatory way back to the bed.  
  
Martin’s initial glance had been curious and apprehensive, but as Ben approached, it shifted to hunger. Martin’s eyes darkened as it glided across Ben’s body, a pointed pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips unconsciously.  
  
Ben felt his arousal curl low in his abdomen at the sight.  
  
His prick twitched eagerly, his flagging erection swiftly rising to full attention at Martin’s obvious interest. Ben’s smiled seductively as he slipped back under the covers, rolled onto his side facing Martin, and propped his head up on his hand.  
  
Martin mirrored Ben’s position, turning onto his side and bringing himself up on an elbow as well.  
  
“There you are. Thought I’d have to send a search party for you.” He smiled teasingly, his nervousness seemingly disappeared.  
  
“Hmm, I hope it would only include you. It would be awfully…. _hard_ …having to explain my...state of dress.” Benedict stared into Martin’s pupil-blown eyes as he lightly traced a finger over the palm of Martin's hand.  
  
Martin's breath hitched slightly in his chest. “I’m not sure if I’d have wanted to invite anyone else. That would mean I’d have to share the view.” He coyly lowered his head a bit and peered at Benedict through his lashes.  
  
Ben moved his finger absently over Martin’s palm as he considered his next response.  
  
After a few moments, Benedict decided to forgo verbal language.  
  
Raising his wandering hand, he brushed the backs of his fingers down Martin’s cheek. He stroked over his cheekbone, down his jaw to his chin, gently held the man’s chin between thumb and index finger before he passed his thumb across Martin’s lower lip.  
  
Martin, still watching Ben with his lashes lowered, parted his lips to allow that same pointed tongue to flick across the pad of Ben's thumb. Benedict felt more than heard himself moan at the sight, and licked his own lips as Martin teased the digit.  
  
Martin lathed his tongue over the sensitive pad, occasionally pressing open-mouthed kisses to it before suckling it, reminiscent of the way Benedict had performed on Martin's cock.  
  
Every lick and suck sent bolts of pleasure to his groin, so when Martin opened his lips wider to take in the whole digit, Ben couldn’t suppress his gasp.  
  
Eyes never leaving Ben’s, Martin sucked  hard on the thumb, running his tongue around the knuckle. He eased his mouth up and off Ben’s thumb before giving a teasing lick to the very tip, then promptly swallowed it down to the base, sucking with indecent enthusiasm.  
  
Which was when Ben gave up any semblance of control.  
  
Growling with need, he removed his thumb from Martin’s mouth as he leaned over to cover the tantalizing lips with his own. Tongues intertwined, Ben rolled over top of Martin, settling between the taut thighs that he had moved between only hours earlier.  
  
Benedict shifted his hips until their shafts rubbed, drawing low moans from both men. One of Martin’s hands slid up into Ben’s hair, gripping and tugging. The other roamed restlessly across Ben’s back, down his hip to his arse, pulling the other man against him and beginning an intensely slow rocking motion that caused such a delicious friction between their cocks.  
  
Ben pulled away from Martin’s kiss-bruised lips, moving down to his neck. He sucked and bit at the salty skin, leaving bruises in his wake.  
  
Martin tipped his head back onto the pillows as he whined in pleasure. His back arched and he rubbed up against Ben, raking nails down his spine, which made Ben move his hips harder against him. “Please…..oh god…Benny, please…”  
  
Licking his way up Martin’s neck to his ear, Ben suckled at the lobe, nipping its edge before releasing it. “Please what, Martin? What do you want?” He dipped back down to the man's neck and sank his teeth roughly where neck met shoulder.  
  
Martin bucked his hips into Ben's and wailed at the pleasure/pain. “Fuck me. Please god fuck me, need you so badly.” Martin arched and writhed under Ben, as he continued to rock their hips together.  
  
Nearly coming undone by the thought of being inside Martin again, Ben closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against Martin’s, clamping down in the orgasm the man had nearly set off. Martin brushed  his lips over Ben’s mouth, jaw, cheekbones, wherever he could reach, as he began a soft litany of “please, more, need you, Benny” under his breath.  
  
Breathing deeply to regain control of himself, Ben rolled to the bedside drawer and swiftly withdrew a condom and a tube of lotion from inside it, before returning to debauched creature upon the bed.  
  
Martin's breath now came out in quiet pants as he watched Ben crawl back and kneel between his thighs.  
  
Looking up from the gorgeous splaying of sweat-slicked limbs, hard cock, and heavy sac, Ben languidly stroked one of Martin’s thighs. “I want to _watch_ you come this time.”  
  
Martin spread his legs obligingly, bending at the knee to allow better access.  
  
Ben, remembering how helpful the pillows had been the night before, grabbed the nearest one and helped prop up Martin’s hips.  
  
The older man really did make a beautiful picture. Leaning back against the rest of the pillows, completely aroused and submissive beneath him, trembling, panting,  and pleading for more.  
  
It would be inhuman to deny him now.  
  
Ben hastily tore open the wrapper and rolled on the condom, wanting nothing to slow him down after Martin was prepared. He gave himself a firm stroke before retrieving the lotion.  
  
He opened the tube, slathering his fingers with the lotion, before shifting further between Martin’s spread thighs. Martin let out a small whimper as a finger swirled teasingly across his hole then slowly pressed in, his clenching walls giving way at the pressure.  
  
Ben hummed in anticipation as he thrust his finger in and out, in and out, Preparation would take little time, as Martin was somewhat loose from previous night’s activities.  
  
He carefully inserted a second finger after Martin began pushing back against him, begging for more, please more.  
  
Carefully scissoring and adding a third finger, Martin was soon a delirious mess of aching flesh, head thrown back and hands twisted in the sheets. “Oh god _please_ Ben, my Ben please I’m ready, so ready, please Benny please….”  
  
Panting hard, Benedict withdrew his fingers--more carefully this time-- and spread the remaining lotion on his encased cock.  
  
Ben placed his hands on the back of Martin’s thighs, tilting his hips up, and draped the man’s legs over his shoulders. He leaned over Martin, spreading him open as he lined himself up. They groaned simultaneously as Ben slowly breached Martin’s tight hole. Ben had to freeze when the tip was engulfed, and take a few breaths to prevent a premature orgasm before continuing to ease his way deeper into Martin.  
  
“Ah!” Martin tossed his head back and forth against the pillows, one hand fisted in the sheets above him and the other latching onto Ben's hip in a vice-like grip.  
  
Ben slid in until he was sheathed from root to tip in the tight heat. He paused, letting them both catch their breaths and adapt to the new position, his hands clamped tightly around Martin's hips.  
  
When Martin moaned and pushed insistently against the cock inside him, Ben pulled out achingly slow until only half of him was buried, then thrust hard all the way back in.  
  
Martin cried out unintelligibly, bucking up into the thrust and pulling Ben in further with the grip on his hip. Ben pulled out, almost completely, then shoved back in harder, bending Martin nearly in half, creating a punishing rhythm. So hot, so fucking _tight_. The man was going to drive him mad with the need to fuck him, to drive further inside.  
  
“GUH! Oh fuck, yes!” Martin pushed up into the near vicious thrusts as Ben picked up speed, driving his hard cock as deep as he could get.  
  
Benedict’s thighs and sac slapped against Martin with every inward slide. He leaned forward, supported his weight on one hand above Martin’s head as the other kept its grip on the man's sweat-slicked hip.  
  
The position completely opened Martin up for his cock and Benedict began violently pounding into him, Martin's babbling and moans becoming increasingly louder in volume.  
  
Feeling his fast-approaching orgasm, Benedict growled as his thrusts bordered on animalistic. His hips rocked up at the end of every rough inward push, his feet flexed against the bed, finding enough purchase to put his entire lower body into his thrusts.. “Touch yourself, oh god, almost there, so _tight_.” He was barely aware of Martin’s hand  reaching between their bodies to grip his own cock.  
  
Martin pumped up and down his shaft once, twice. On the third, his whole body went into convulsions.  
  
Martin’s head tossed back, his back arched deeper, his leg muscles went into convulsive spasms, as did tight hole Ben was pounding.  Martin shouted Ben's name as he came in thick spurts across his own chest, whimpering and moaning in orgasm.  
  
Watching Martin fly apart and feeling the tight arse clamp mercilessly around his cock drove Ben over the edge.  
  
He slammed his cock viciously into Martin’s tightened hole, spilled his release as he shouted a garbled attempt at Martin’s name, his body shuddering helplessly against the man beneath him. Ben pulsed deep inside him before the arm supporting his weight collapsed, and he found himself once again a dead weight atop Martin's quivering form. His head dropped down onto the bed beside Martin’s as they both panted from exertion.  
  
Their limbs shook slightly as they gradually came down from their orgasm-induced highs.  
  
Martin turned his head towards Ben’s and nuzzled against the side of his face, still impaled by Ben’s softening cock. Ben turned his head and nuzzled back, the sweat on their faces mingling. He tenderly pressed his lips to Martin’s, kissing him as the tremors slowly left their bodies and their breathing evened out.  
  
As Benedict’s limbs began to respond, he eased himself up, and gently pulled out. Martin groaned faintly at the sensation of emptiness.  
  
He moved to lay down one of the pillows beside Martin, pulling off the condom and tossing of it into the bin beside the bed.      
  
Martin was lazily skimming his fingers through the semen across his chest, eyes shut with a blissful, satisfied smile on his face. Ben rolled the bed's edge and crossed to the loo on shaking legs. He returned momentarily with a wet rag and carefully wiped the mess from Martin's skin.  
  
Catching Ben's fingers with his own, Martin placed a kiss to the knuckles, eyes never straying from Benedict's clear blue one's. For some reason, the simple gesture brought a flush of self consciousness to Ben's cheeks, despite their vigorous lovemaking.  
  
"Thank you, that was most kind of you." Martin smiled warmly up at him.  
  
"For the rag?" Benedict smiled teasingly. He settled back down next to Martin, having flung the soiled cloth over the side of the bed after wiping himself down as well. Tugging the wrinkled blanket up over them to fight off the chill of their cooling sweat, he turned towards Martin.  
  
Martin rolled to his side to face Benedict more fully. "For that, yes. Though I'd be woefully ungrateful if I didn't thank you for...tending to me. You seem to be quite the cure for late-night revelries with coworkers." His smile turned somewhat sardonic as a shadow seemed to cross Ben's face. "There's something bothering you. What is it?"  
  
Benedict chewed on his tongue, his features slightly tensed in his embarrassed consternation. "It's ...silly" He fiddled with the cover's edge, eyes fixed firmly on his own fingers. "When Mark...touched you...I didn't...I wasn't precisely pleased about it."  
  
His voice had gotten softer and softer with every halting word that it was a wonder that Martin heard the rest of it at all.  
  
Martin chuckled slightly as he reached over and grasped Ben's chin, tilting his face up so he could look him in the eyes. "You didn't like _him_ touching _me_ or Mark having _me_ touch _him_?"  
  
"Both" Ben reluctantly bit out. "I told you it was silly. You're not even mine yet I still wanted to hit him for...I don't know, _helping_ himself to you."  
  
Martin brushed his fingers down Ben's cheek, his expression turning thoughtful. "I can't really fault you for jealousy, I suppose. When he kissed you before he left, I had a brief struggle with the green-eyed monster. But the wine and the orgasm smoothed it all out rather quickly." He smiled rakishly at Ben. "I wouldn't worry too much over Mark. I highly doubt late-night orgies with the cast will become a nightly thing."  
  
"Hmm..." Ben stared down at his own hands as silence fell between them.  
  
"That wasn't all of it, was it" Martin angle his head down to catch Benedict's eyes again. "Your worried about _this_ , aren't you? That it will...get between us somehow?" His eyes fixed questioningly upon Ben.  
  
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.  
  
"Sort of....in a way..." Ben floundered for a few moments. Martin quietly waited for him to form his thoughts. Ben sighed, running a hand through his sex-mussed hair.  
  
Just get it out.  
  
"I...enjoyed this. Last night and this morning. What we did, it... felt amazing. More than amazing. And I.." Ben bit his lip, staring hard at the ceiling. "I suppose, that I'm disappointed in a way that it's...done. Not just because the sex was fantastic, because it _was_ fantastic and _you're_ fantastic and it's not just the sex I'll miss, it's just--"  
  
Martin silenced the stream of words falling from Ben's lips with a kiss.  
  
Withdrawing hesitantly, he made Ben look at him. "You don't want this to be a one hit wonder, do you? And not just because the sex was fantastic?" He gazed searchingly into Ben's eyes.  
  
Hands fisted in the sheets, Ben slowly shook his head. "No....not just because the sex was fantastic. But I told you, it's silly. You have Amanda, and the kids, and New Zealand, and I know how stupid it would be to hold expecta--"  
  
Once again Martin captured Ben's lips to prevent the flow of words.  
  
"The New Zealand thing is a job, just a job, which will be over soon enough. Don't worry about the kids because nothing could tear me from them, vise versa, or force me to hurt them. Besides, they adore you so shut up." Chastising Ben teasingly before his features became serious. "As for Amanda...we have our agreements. So long as I'm honest with her and conduct myself with discretion...she and I are both free to pursue what makes us happy. So long as nothing falls back onto the kids, of course."  
  
He took a hold of Benedict's chin, rubbing his thumb across his full, bruised lips.  
  
"This doesn't necessarily have to end once we leave this room. I myself wouldn't mind seeing where this will go, if that answers your question. And not just because the sex was fantastic either. After all, it's not every day that I let someone fuck me." Martin's lips quirked up sardonically while Ben mulled over the words.  
  
His voice caught in his throat, forcing him to clear it a few times. "Yes, um, yes that answers my questions...rather effectively. So, um." Throat clear. "Discretion. Yes. And communication. I believe that's...manageable." Another throat clear. "Um, do we do this as a group discussion or individually? Oh God, she'll banish me from the house, won't she?" Ben buried his face in his hands, his cheeks burning red at the thought of Amanda's ire.  
  
Martin chuckled at Benedict's dismay and stuttering, catching Ben's gaze with his own once more.  
  
"Like I said: Honesty, Communication, and Discretion. She knows and likes you. Shit, with all this Sherlock business, I think _she's_ half hoping we fall into bed together, like the rest of our fan base." He rolled his eyes and smiled mischievously. " Hell, sexy as you are, she might even want to _watch_."  
  
Ben flushed at the compliment, flustered as always when people admired his looks. "I suppose that could be...arranged. Not like we haven't been watched before now, have we? Just one condition, please?"  
  
"What's that, lovely?"  
  
"No more Mark."  
  
Laughing as he drew Benedict into a deep, comforting kiss, Martin ran a hand through errant locks before pulling back with a grin. "Mark who?"  
  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it =) my first fic. Any and all comments welcome.


End file.
